


Pain and Pink Floyd

by ariandula



Category: Figure Skating RPF
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-03
Updated: 2014-07-03
Packaged: 2018-02-07 08:18:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1891896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ariandula/pseuds/ariandula
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Tessa's surgery, she's angry and in pain. Continuation of "It Started with Umbrellas."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pain and Pink Floyd

**Author's Note:**

> Also posted on the V/M livejournal.

Pain had become Tessa’s best friend. Her constant companion. It knew all of her hopes and dreams, her fears and insecurities. 

She’d only just started to become acquainted with pain’s mistress, though: anger. 

It had been two months since her surgery, and a couple of weeks since she first tried to get back onto the ice. They’d had a big welcome back party for her at the rink while she laced up her skates for the first time and stepped onto the ice. 

Scott had offered his hand, skating in front of her, but she ignored it. Now he wanted to be there for her? At the exact time when she didn’t need him anymore? No thanks. She could do this on her own, just like the last month.

Turns out, she could only do it for about thirty seconds before the burning ache in her legs nearly crippled her. Years of competing in pain had trained her not to show emotion, so she didn’t. She’d finished the lap then exited the rink with her head up. 

Scott had shot her a look, but she ignored that, too. 

She didn’t return the next day. Instead she’d sat on her couch after physio with ice on her shins, cursing the body that refused to cooperate. 

Scott didn’t acknowledge her absence. He just greeted her at the rink the following day with an outstretched hand. Giving in, she took it, hating that the touch of his hand was the one thing that made her forget about the pain for a while. Especially when he’d denied her of that relief for nearly two months. 

They marked through some of the program they’d worked on before her surgery. No lifts, no steps or spins. Just slowly puttering around the rink in the general ice coverage of the program. 

That time she’d lasted nearly two minutes. 

Now she’s up to skating almost half an hour a day, though broken up into much smaller pieces. They practiced an element for thirty seconds, then off for two minutes. Then another for thirty seconds. And so on.

Scott did what he could. He kept practicing with sandbags and brooms and whatever other strange things Marina and Igor could think of. When she was ready to go he was right there by her side, guiding her through the steps that he’d already learned.

As soon as they were done with the element, she skated away from him to take her rest. She had to tear herself away from his comforting touch, but it hurt in a totally different, somehow more excruciating way to keep holding his hand. Only once did she allow herself to look back at him and see the flicker of pain in his eyes. 

Tessa couldn’t remember who had first proposed Pink Floyd to them for their program music that year. It hadn’t immediately resonated with her, to be honest. She loved the rawness of the screaming, but it certainly took getting used to. She knew how to skate - emote, really - to lyrical music, or latin. But contemporary rock was a whole different ball game. 

Now they were only a few of weeks away from their first competition. They’d had to pull out of both of their Grand Prix events, much to Scott’s dismay. He’d tried to hide it from her, but he’d never been good at masking his emotions. Certainly not like her. But Nationals would soon be upon them, and they had yet to run through their programs even once since her surgery. 

As she was leaving the rink, Scott caught her arm and pulled her to a stop. 

Tessa squeezed her eyes closed before looking up into his face. “What, Scott?”

“You heard Marina. We need to talk through our programs since we can’t skate them.”

“Yeah, sorry.”

Scott pushed a hand through his hair. “I wasn’t blaming you and you know it. It’s just our reality right now.”

“Not blaming me?” she asks with raised eyebrows. “Well that’s good.”

A muscle in his jaw ticked, but he didn’t acknowledge her sarcasm. “I’ll be by tonight, okay?”

That made Tessa turn to face him straight on. “No. We’ll just get here early tomorrow.”

“That’s not enough, T. I’m coming by tonight. If you don’t open your door then I’ll just blast the music and talk to you through it.”

“Fine,” she finally said, breaking his stare and marching out the door. 

That evening, she was enjoying a nice green smoothie with a side of ice packs when she heard a knock on the door. Scott didn’t wait before letting himself in. 

Making himself at home, he popped the cd of their program music into her sound system. They had acquired a set of rolling stools to sit on to practice their movements, so they each took their place. Tessa attempted to steel herself before he had a chance to gather her up in a dance hold. She was only a little bit successful. 

They moved their upper bodies back and forth as the music flowed around them, counting and talking through steps that took place only in their minds. 

“Again,” she said, brusk, but he’d already hit the repeat button. They both knew exactly how much work it would take to be ready. They’d been living it. 

After the fifth time of going through their original dance, after too many viennese waltzes, Scott paused the music. 

“What?” she asked, reaching for the remote to the stereo. “We need to do the full dance next.” 

“Tessa,” Scott said quietly. “We need to talk.”

“No, we don’t,” she protested. “Talking won’t get us to a title. Working will.” She hit play on Pink Floyd and assumed her opening position in front of Scott. She felt his breath against her neck when he sighed, sending a shiver down her skin. 

Halfway through, he paused the music again. “It’s not right.”

“I thought I did all of the right movements,” she said, surprised but not upset by his statement. If they got mad each time the other tried to fix something, they’d never get anything done. “What needs work?”

“I can’t believe I’m the one saying this,” Scott said, “but the emotion isn’t right.” 

“What should it be?” she asked, indulging in a rare moment of slouching. 

“I’m not sure, Tess. What do you feel when you listen to it?”

“It’s screaming. What should I feel?” 

“Something,” he said, finally getting exasperated. “You’re supposed to feel something.” 

She rested her feet on the couch to elevate her legs, taking the moment to shove down her irritation, before remarking, “I get the sense we’re not talking about the music anymore.” 

Scott stood up and stalked away, then returned. “You haven’t spoken to me for months.”

Tessa rolled her eyes. “We’re talking now. We talked yesterday.” 

“You know what I mean. Don’t pretend you don’t. We haven’t talked, really talked, since before your surgery. You won’t talk to me.” 

All of that irritation she’d tried to push away flooded to the surface. “Whose fault is that, Scott?”

“What are you talking about?” he asked, still flush with anger. 

Tessa struggled to stand, pulled away from him when he tried to help her. “You didn’t visit. You didn’t email. You didn’t even pick up your damn phone and call me.”

“Marina had me training in Canton,” he protested, but his voice had weakened. 

Hers, to contrast, only went up in volume. “You abandoned me during the hardest thing I’ve ever experienced in my life, and now you want me to talk to you like nothing’s changed? Everything’s changed!”

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly. So quietly, Tessa wasn’t sure she heard him right. 

“What?”

“I’m sorry. You’re right. I was a coward.”

Tessa stalked toward him, holding out her finger. “You, Scott, are a piece of work. You think an apology will change the last two months?” She jabbed him in the chest, anger flowing freely now. “You think that a couple of words will make me forget how completely betrayed you made me feel?”

Scott’s face darkened. She knew he didn’t like it when people got into his face. She’d known the instant she’d forced her way across the line into his personal space with her anger, and then she pushed a little farther. 

He grabbed her finger and held it away from him, his dark eyes sparking. She’d seen that look intimidate many people before, but it didn’t scare her in the slightest. She just raised her chin and met him square on. 

Then, emotions riding higher than maybe ever before in her life, she grabbed him by the back of the neck and shoved his head down, pushing her lips up to meet his. 

The kiss was full of anger and frustration. Lust perhaps, but certainly not love. She had too many emotions to count bottled up inside her and finally she’d chosen an outlet. Her teeth clashed with his, but she didn’t care - only pushed harder, gripped his hair more fiercely. 

Finally, Scott grabbed her by the shoulders and forced her away from him. Breathless, still sparking with anger of his own, he said, “Tessa, this is a bad idea.” 

“You abandon me, betray our partnership, force me to feel, then deny me a release from those feelings? Not this time Scott. You don’t get to make the rules this time.”

So she kissed him again, and Scott’s control snapped. Tessa felt him try to take over by wrapping his arms around her and bringing her down to the floor, but she wasn’t having it. As soon as they were down she shoved him over and climbed on top, hitting the stereo remote with her knee in the process. Pink Floyd started over from the beginning, it’s melancholy piano adding fuel to her fire. 

By the time the screaming started, she’d already divested him of his shirt and pants in between kissing him, each time more forceful than before. He groaned when she bit his lip, probably harder than she should have. Again he tried to take control but succeeded only in getting off her shirt. She denied him any effort to roll them over so he could be on top. They both knew he could have forced his way, but they also both knew he never would. 

She was angry. Angry at him, angry at her body. Angry at life. So when she finally joined the two of them while the music screamed around them, she took every hurt feeling she’d ever had and used it. She pushed herself down on him, ignored his grunts, pushed her hands against his irritatingly flat stomach. She fought to find that release, that moment when she’d be able to forget about all of the pain. 

And then it happened. Her body tightened, more than she thought possible, and exploded. She was only distantly aware of Scott shaking beneath her.

Bliss.

Then it was over, and the pain returned. Some part of her had really believed the right kind of release would make it all go away, but it was a lie. In truth, she’d always known that was a lie. The pain was hers forever.

She slumped down onto Scott and buried her face into his chest, fighting to keep the tears from escaping. His arms came around her, knowing as he always did exactly what she was feeling. 

“I really am sorry,” he whispered into her hair. “I didn’t know how to be what you needed, so I took the easy way out and stopped trying. It was a horrible thing for me to do, and I’ll spend the rest of our lives working to fix it. You are the strongest person I’ve ever known, and I know you can beat this. And I’ll be there with you from now on, every step of the way.” 

That sent the tears dripping from her eyes, mixing with the sweat on his skin. “I can’t do this without you,” she said.

“You can,” he countered, “I know you can. You have been. But you won’t have to anymore. I’m with you now.”

The music had long since ended, though they stayed wrapped in each other on the floor. Neither was willing to shatter the moment that they had just created on the floor of her apartment. Tessa’s pain was back, but their release had healed the other kind of pain - the pain in her soul. 

They each felt it the exact moment their hearts - too long separated - finally synced up again, beating as one.


End file.
